User blog comment:Biggren/The Northern March Original/@comment-3135907-20130628155739/@comment-1298206-20150427194342

''Holding his tricorne in his teeth, "Grimear" propels himself through the water using stroke after stroke until they have passed the edge of the vermin camp, where the hare captain begins to head inland. Upon reaching the shallows, "Grimear" wades out of the water and wrings out his tricorne and spits off to the side to rid his mouth of the taste of saltwater. He turns to Feffle as he begins places his tricorne on his head and moves onto wringing out his coattails.'' "Well, we've made it."